Word: misting
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...becomes stuffy, stifling. Author Smith's sincerity is evident and creditable, but the conflicts in the minds of his characters, though perfectly imaginable, are poorly imagined. They have not been viewed with sufficient perspective to prevent their growing maudlin. The action is unbalanced. It wobbles off into a mist of emotion and disappears from sight. Author Smith's last book, Topper (1926), was in a happier, lighter, suburban vein to which his readers may well wish he would return...
...difficulty Mr. Robinson, if his poem was to be really successful, had to overcome. But this the very introspection and sensitivity with which he has invested Tristram and Isolt make them unreal. They move behind veils, they are half hidden in a midst. Not always, of course; occasionally the mist lifts, the characters appear, and we feel the intensity of their passion...
...action and atmosphere of Decadence are typified in a single meteorological description from it: "During the daytime an opal cloud of acrid smoke rose in a column above the earth and at night the bald moon looked unpleasantly red, and the stars, shorn of their rays by the mist, loomed out like the heads of copper nails, while the water in the river reflected the troubled sky and gave one the impression of a stream of thick, subterranean smoke...
Such is the atmosphere that, like grey mist, informs two of this book's* three parts. In such a mist events of the most personal nature loom up with unwonted significance. It is not so thick as to shroud details; these are handled gently but with such calm precision that close scrutiny will reveal no blurred edges. Fastrade von de Warthe walks in the great park, brooding, but her figure is seen clearly through the trees. Dietz von Egloff, with unrest in his soul, rides his black stallion over the estates when the countryside is abed, but the effect...
...dusk descended the Hercules coasted down through a light mist at Marseille, just beyond the Western extremity of the French Riviera, Next day, amid perfect weather, they flew East and South along the entire French and Italian Riviera to Naples-averaging 93½ miles an hour. As morning dawned again the Hercules bellowed up through a driving rain to the clear skies above and flew 350 miles over sea to the British Island of Malta...